


Bring Me to Life

by untapdtreasure



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 19:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2593592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untapdtreasure/pseuds/untapdtreasure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had worked it over over in his mind how to explain to her what he would mean by those words, but her arms slipping under his arms and face pressing into his chest made every coherant thought slip right out of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me to Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first adventure into The 100 fandom. Please be kind. I'm seriously intrigued by the push and pull between Abby and Marcus. So this is me working that out for myself. I expect that the only pairing I'll ever write for here is this one.

Marcus stepped through the gate into Camp Jaha. It was dark, and he'd nodded silently at the guards on duty. The two guardsmen that he'd taken with him brought up the rear behind the nearly four dozen or so of the hundred that he'd managed to scrounge up along the way. He'd been gone just under two weeks, leaving Abby in charge in his absence. Her reign seemed to prove fruitful from what he could tell. The camp was still standing, and that was a testament to how much their people respected her. 

Bellamy and Finn were somewhere in the middle. They'd been quiet on the return trip, quieter than he'd known either boy to be since he'd met them. They were walking a fine line, after all the shenanigans that they'd pulled in order to get Clarke and the others free from Mount Weather.

"Can you go and get Chancellor Griffin?" he instructed to the guardsman just inside the gate. "Tell her that I'm back, and that we're in need of her assistance in the med tent." He stepped aside, directing the line of kids behind him to the red tent that was at the left of camp. "The doctor and her staff will check you over, and then we'll make sleeping arrangements."

The blonde hung toward the back of the pack. She wasn't quite ready to face her mother, not after the truths that had been revealed, and as much as he wanted to indulge her, he knew that this was what Abby had been waiting for, and he couldn't deny that right to her. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

He and Clarke had butted heads all along the way. She was very much like her mother, but in a lot of ways, her father was who he saw when he looked at her, when she spoke. He let out a frustrated sigh. "Don't make me drag you in there, Clarke. This is not what Jake would have wanted..."

Clarke's eyes flashed angrily to his. "Don't talk about my father. You lost that right when you followed the command when the Ark floated him."

He knew it would be fruitless to argue that he was carrying out orders and bound by law to obey them. He'd learned so much about those laws and how he should have been on Jake's side, fighting to save the people instead of make them live in fear. "It's still the truth, and we both know it." He stepped forward, touching her lower back and nudging her forward as Abby emerged from her personal tent just on the other side of camp. "She's been through hell and back to get here."

Clarke's head swiveled to meet his eyes. Her resolve cracking a little. "Okay," she whispered. Her voice was unsteady, and her eyes misted over slightly before she began to blink rapidly to fight back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Clarke," Abby whispered, knees shaking as she stepped forward. Her arms were around her daughter, crushing her hard against her. She felt the tears flowing down her cheeks, freely and unashamed. She buried her face in her hair, breathing in the familiar smell that was all Clarke. She couldn't believe that after everything that she was finally holding Clarke again.

Clarke returned her hug, moving her hands up her mother's back and holding on just a little longer when Abby tried to get a better look at her. "I'm okay, Mom. I swear." She had scrapes and bruises, but other than that, she wasn't any worse for wear. "Just tired. We all are. Kane wanted us here before morning. Seems like we're early." 

She finally put a bit of distance between herself and her mother. Things weren't magically fixed between them, but they were in a better place. A more understanding place. "We can talk more tomorrow. Can you look us over so we can go to bed? We're exhausted."

Abby nodded quickly, guiding Clarke toward the med tent. She threw a glance over her shoulder at him, taking him in for the first time since they'd returned. She noted several cuts and a faint bruise on his cheek. She'd tend to him last, knowing he'd stay awake until both their jobs were done. "Thank you," she mouthed. And it was nowhere near enough.

He gave a slight nod, turning to give further instruction to his guardsmen about erecting tents and finding whatever blankets that could be spared for the kids. He'd already decided that if any of the remaining one hundred had family in their camp, they'd be reunited with them as soon as they were cleared from medical.

\- -

Two grueling hours later, he stepped into the medical tent. He glanced around and started to ask about Clarke when he saw Abby put her finger to her lips and mimed for him to be quiet. He followed her outstretched hand and saw Clarke curled up on a gurney fast asleep. He nodded and gestured that they take their conversation outside to not disturb her.

"Marcus, I want to thank you." Abby's words were a whispered rush as they stepped out into the cool night air. "Words aren't enough..." She was beyond exhausted. Sleep had come very little and plagued with nightmares since before they'd crash landed on Earth. Tears pricked her eyes painfully as she tried to blink them away.

He reached out, touching her arm and giving it a squeeze. "I owe you everything..." He had worked it over and over in his mind how to explain to her what he would mean by those words, but her arms slipping under his arms and face pressing into his chest made every coherent thought slip right out of his mind. He carefully wrapped his arms around her back, tucking his bruised cheek against the crown of her head. He whispered, "I wish I could have done it sooner, better..." 

She hadn't been held in as long as she could remember, and just being in his arms made her feel a little bit put back together. Her body shook silently as the emotion she'd bottled up over the past few weeks released. Her tears soaked the front of his shirt as he held her until she cried herself out. "You didn't have to do what you did..."

He squeezed her a bit tighter. "Didn't I?" He moved one hand slowly up to cradle the back of her head gently. "C'mon. Let's get you back to bed. Tomorrow we've got work to do." He put a couple inches of distance between them, looking down into her dark eyes. He'd too often seen them sad, but the bit of elation and relief that pooled in them now was worth every bit of trepidation prior. He lifted his hand to her cheek, wiping at a wayward tear. "Clarke and the others will probably sleep in tomorrow."

She leaned heavily against him, taking in a deep breath as he wrapped his arm around her lower back and guided her toward her quarters. He was the one that had been traipsing about in an unknown wilderness for almost two weeks, and here he was being her rock. She let out a tired breath. "Maybe tonight I'll sleep."

"I hope so." He then let them fall into a comfortable silence until he was at the entrance to her tent and decided to forego formality and bent low and lead the way inside. It was just as he suspected it would be. Tidy and everything in it's place. So Abby. He slowly extricated himself and said softly, "I'll leave you to it. You know where I am if you need me." He turned toward her then as the light caught the bruise on his cheek and the cuts.

"Marcus Kane," she admonished in her tired, but still very much doctor like voice. "You should have been in that tent ahead of most of them kids." She guided him toward her bed and pushed him gently to sit on the edge of it. "Don't you even start with me. If those get infected, we'll be in a mess."

He started to protest, but she got that look on her face, and in his tired state, he realized that it's just a battle he's going to fight another day. He dropped his hands into his lap and lets her work on cleaning his cuts and scrapes. He flinched when the astringent stung and clenched his teeth together. His hands came out to grip her hips roughly. "Easy, Abby." 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I think you behaved worse than the worst one in that lot." She gestured in the direction of the medical tent. "Marcus, really." She took his face gently in her hands and blew gently to dry the cleaning solution from his cut. "That better?"

"Much." Yet, he didn't move his hands. He kept them resting against her hips, loosely and intimately as his thumb worried a circle pattern against her hip bone. He closed his eyes and let out a tired sigh. "Should be alright tonight, right? You can give it a thorough inspection tomorrow. I'm beat." He looked up at her with sleepy eyes and gave a slight smile. 

She could barely concentrate between the fatigue and his hands. The latter doing more than the exhaustion. She swallowed back the lump that formed in her throat. "I'm going to hold you to that, Marcus." She set her medical tools aside, running her fingertips gently over a small sterile bandage that would hopefully hold his skin together enough to promote grafting of the skin to close it entirely. 

"Good." He pushed her back gently, standing so that he was towering over her and there was only a breath of room between them. He took a shaky breath and bent his head slowly. He could blame exhaustion and insanity for his next actions if she chose to hold them against him. His lips brushed hers softly. He let them linger for only a few beats then pulled away, heading toward the exit to the tent. "Goodnight, Abby." He didn't dare turn toward her, fearful of her eyes betraying her and knowing full well he had crossed a line.

When she was alone, she dropped down onto her bed. Her lips tingled where his had brushed hers. She couldn't catch her breath as she thought about the implications of his actions. There was so much history there. So much water under the bridge that she wasn't sure they could make it work even if they desperately wanted to. Yet, she was willing to just let it be what it was. Wasn't that all they could do at this point? 

She laid down on her side, not even bothering to turn off the light. Her last thoughts were of Clarke being returned to her and Marcus Kane's lips on hers as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep that her body had been desperately craving for weeks now.


End file.
